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“Besides all that,” her grace said, waving her hand as though to bat away the topic of politics, “I have noticed a change in Simon since your family’s arrival. And I cannot say it is because of your brother that my son seems more at ease than normal.”
The blush came back, full force, and Isleen very much wished for a cup of tea to swallow. Perhaps that would ease the sudden dryness of her throat. Was this the conversation that would end with her being warned away from the duke’s heir? Perhaps the duchess would now hint, gently but firmly, that Isleen was not the right sort of woman for Simon? That was what would happen in a novel. Only, the duchess was a far kinder person than Lady Catherine de Bourgh in that novel—
“I am so glad Simon has found a friend in you, Miss Frost.”
Isleen forced herself to smile, though it felt more like a grimace upon her face. “I promise that is all we are, Your Grace. Friends, I mean.”
At this, the duchess grinned. Her eyes danced. And she lowered her voice to whisper, “Perhaps. For now.”
Isleen opened and closed her mouth several times, but only a squeak escaped. This made the duchess laugh, though not unkindly. The sound echoed in the nearly empty ballroom, likely carrying down the stairs and into open corridors.
It was like magic to hear it, and to know the walls the duchess’s laughter touched had all been put in place by her mind and will.
“Miss Frost, you seem a very intelligent and compassionate lady. You did not know this, but Emma is something of an expert on those who seek to get close to our family. She acted as Josephine’s companion for many years, though we really considered her our foster daughter. Emma can tell in just a few conversations what motivates people attempting a relationship with my children. And she cannot say enough kind things about you.”
“I wasn’t trying to get close to anyone,” Isleen protested, putting her heart into the explanation as much as she could. “I only wanted to be a good houseguest. To help my brother, you know. His position is so important. Everyone was so kind, and it was easy to form friendships. I didn’t mean to overstep—”
“Gracious, child.” The duchess again touched Isleen, this time on the arm. Her eyes were wide with alarm. “I am not accusing you of anything. Oh, you poor dear. Perhaps I went about this all wrong. Please, calm yourself.”
“I am sorry.” Isleen breathed deeply. “But you are a duchess, and I am only me.”
“Only you?” The duchess moved closer, wrapping her arm around Isleen’s shoulders in a maternal manner. The window seat did not so much as creak beneath the woman. “You, Miss Frost, are a lovely person. A person I wish to know better. I might be a duchess, but I wasn’t always. And I am also a mother, whose children like you very much. Do not be distressed any longer.”
Isleen nodded, hardly trusting herself to speak. “I like your children very much, too.” Her blush hadn’t gone away, which made it easier to say, “Allof them.”
“But perhaps one in particular?” The duchess hinted with a little smile. “Do not worry yourself overmuch, Isleen. May I call you Isleen? It is such a lovely name.”
“Of course, Your Grace. I would be honored.” Although she still could not wrap her mind around all the duchess hinted at. Surely, she could not hint at a relationship between Isleen and Simon. No, that would be ridiculous. No one could guess what Isleen had started to feel for the handsome young earl. She had been careful. So very careful not to reveal her feelings. Because she knew how impossible they were.
“I hope we see a lot of you after this house party is over, Miss Frost,” the duchess said, her head tilted to the side again as she studied Isleen. “Our home in London will be open to you, as Clairvoir is open to you and yours. It is difficult for my family to find true friends. We count your family among those numbers.” The duchess rose, and Isleen jolted to her feet, too.
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
“Would you like to come with me to my chambers? That is where the book is. If you would like to read it.” Was it her imagination, or did the duchess momentarily seem uncertain, too?
Isleen threw back her shoulders and agreed immediately. “I would, please. The first chapter was enough to catch my interest. I cannot imagine how the meeting of the vicar’s daughter and the gentleman might go.”
“Lovely.” The duchess linked arms with Isleen and led her from the ballroom and down the corridor to the stairway nearest the family’s wing. “I think you will love what happens next. I have no wish to spoil it for you, but when you have read chapter six, we simply must discuss it.”
“I would like that.”
“Miss Frost, I cannot help feeling I would like the author very much. I do wish women did not have to write under pseudonyms. It is patently unfair. First the author ofPride and Prejudice, now this new lady writer.” As the duchess spoke about her opinions on women and novels, Isleen listened intently, and her heart at last slowed its anxious rhythm.
She shouldn’t have doubted the duchess’s kindness. Not after coming to know Lady Josephine and Simon, or even the younger children for that matter. They had accepted her into their circles with warmth and enthusiasm.
Maybe the sister of an Irish baron wasn’t a nobody. Not to the duke’s family. And that thought was comforting. And it made her wonder, in a way she hadn’t thought she had the right to wonder, about Simon again.
What if…perhaps…someday, he wanted something more than friendship?
CHAPTER17
More castle guests arrived as the week went on. Isleen met an entomologist and his wife, the duchess’s younger brother and his family, two politicians and their families who helped fill the schoolroom and nursery, and Simon’s cousin: the Honorable Mr. Thomas Childwick.
Isleen sat at a table in the Regent’s Gallery, a glass lantern before her. She used white paint to create a lace-like pattern of frost along the glass. The other ladies worked on lanterns with her, chatting amiably about how the lanterns would be used as centerpieces for the midnight supper at the Christmas Eve Ball.
Mr. Childwick sat nearby, and she had felt his eyes on her more than once. Not in a way that caused her anxiety or distraction. Thank goodness. He had spent most of his time with Simon, but the duke’s son was not in the room at present. Indeed, she hadn’t any idea where he might be.
Ileen had sat next to Mr. Childwick at dinner a few evenings before, and he had been well-mannered and solicitous of her comfort. But it had still been Simon who had sat nearest herafterdinner. Or Josephine or Emma. Which meant she still didn’t know Mr. Childwick very well.
